The last thing Peter remembered was falling, and then darkness as he blacked out. What the teenager wasn’t aware of was the troop of uniformed men who picked him up, threw his slumped self in the trunk of a van, and then sped off, leaving a crowd of people wondering what had just happened? Split-seconds later, video footage of Spiderman being kidnapped went viral, appearing on a multitude of screens and devices, including the ones located at Avengers Tower. 

Wanda, who was watching the footage breathed out in horror as her hand covered her open mouth, “Guys, Peter, oh God.” 

Tony Stark felt his heart drop as he watched his son, the kid who he had been taking care of for nearly all of Peter’s life miss his target and was sent pummeling to the ground. The Avenger remembered the day they found Peter like it was yesterday. It was a clear, vivid memory that Tony promised himself that would never alter in his genius mind. He felt his stomach join his heart as Peter crashed onto the concrete with a thud that forced him to unconsciously blurt, “FRIDAY, suit. Now.” The man’s vision blurred and all he could focus on was Peter, his Peter potentially getting hurt. 

Steve’s voice was panic-stricken as he addressed his husband, “Tony, I think we’re too late.” His voice faltered, and a sound of protest escaped his lips. 

Tony followed his husband’s gaze as men dressed in oddly familiar attire threw his son into a van and sped off. 

…

A groan slipped out of Peter’s lips as a wave of pain overcame him. He moved to rub his eyes, but found metal holding them back. Confused and on the verge of panic, Peter’s eyes fluttered open, revealing himself in unfamiliar territory. 

The room that he was contained in was empty for the most part, and somehow it’s vastness conjured uneasy vibes, opening up the idea of terror. Peter sucked in a breath, trying to control the panic that was slowly consuming his body. He turned his head to the side to find a small table caked in filth that was accompanied by a small metal chair. If the boy craned his head at just the right angle, he’d be able to see small slivers of light protrude from a rounded window. Then Peter realized that he was still in his suit. Which meant that whoever brought him here knew, or now knew his identity. And possibly other things about him, like who he really was.

The teenager stiffened, fight-or-flight response triggering as dozens of worst-case scenarios ran through his head. He wondered aloud, “Where am I?” Is this a dream? How did I get here? And then it all came to him: the robbery and then falling. How he got here was beyond his comprehension. But that didn’t matter to him, all the boy could focus on was getting out of here. He had never been kidnapped before, and he didn’t want to be here. His fathers had taught him that if he was ever captured, you should always try to free yourself if the opportunity presented itself. And this looked exactly like one to Peter. 

He grunted as he tried to pry the restraints off but failed, sinking back against the cold metal that he was stuck upon. How are these restraints still on? My super strength should’ve worked. More panic took hold of him as he tried to figure out why his abilities weren’t working. C’mon Peter, get a hold of yourself. Panicking won’t help you get out of here, wherever here is. Take a deep breath and try again. 

Confused with his predicament, the boy pouted. He sighed, stubbornness getting a hold on him as he tried again. Another grunt flooded the room as he pushed himself up, as he pushed himself up, attempting yet again to free himself of his restraints. Just as his ineffective attempt sent him pressed against the cold metal, a husky voice chortled, “There’s no use in trying to free yourself. I designed these specifically to withstand the power and strength of Thor. And you’re no Thor. You’re just a mosey kid, who is worth a whole lot.”

Peter mustered his best serious look despite the heavy fear that rose from the pit of his stomach, “Who the hell are you?” He thickly swallowed, tugging on his restraints once again. He felt scared, he had never been kidnapped before and he didn’t like it. He wanted to be safe at home, tucked between the arms of his Dads. 

The man only smiled revealing two rows of pearl-white teeth, “You’re going to get to know us very well, dear Peter. But, you can call me Quentin, Quentin Beck.” He approached his captive and brought a needle to Peter’s vision, showing the boy what he was going to do to him.  

This caused Peter to immediately panic as he thrashed around whimpering, “Us? How do you know who I am? Where am I? Get that away from me!”  He kept on moving, hoping that the man, Beck as he had introduced himself as wouldn’t hurt him. 

Peter’s hopes were quickly diminished as the man, Quentin Beck latched an arm onto his, and forced it still despite Peter’s thrashing. He explained with a smile that gave Peter an  urge to throw up, “The restraints prevent you from using your super strength, but not your other abilities, if that’s what you want to call them.” He winked, “You’ll need them for later. Now, stay still, pest.” He squeezed Peter’s arm, forcing it to stiffen as he forced the needle through the boy’s flesh, causing Peter to stifle a scream. 

The teenager’s eyes watered as the effect was instantaneous. Pain immediately surged through Peter’s body as he dizzily whispered weakly, “Stop, you’re hurting me!” He lazily moved to push Beck away but found his body forcing itself to shut down. Peter felt his vision blur as black dots dotted his vision as thinking took too much of his energy, and everything around him looked and sounded fuzzy. 

Beck chuckled as he watched Peter struggle to stay conscious, “Sweet dreams, or not. I don’t really care. Anyways, the real fun begins tomorrow.” 

The last thing he saw was Beck wink as he left the room, and then he succumbed to the darkness.